


Feed Me Poison

by cyvillewrites (orphan_account)



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Drug Addiction, M/M, OOS Era - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9689993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cyvillewrites
Summary: Matthew is ill.Chris and Dom are very worried.But Matt just doesn't care.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: hella drugs, bad writing, matt being a cunt, addiction, alcoholism mention and implying, sad?, dom getting Angry

"Matt," a familiar voice called, "Matt, wake up."

I stirred before placing my head on the desk again and falling asleep. Shortly after, somebody was shaking me awake. "God damn it, Matthew Bellamy, this is the third time this week you've pulled an all-nighter in the studio."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I groaned, rubbing my eyes, "I got the song done so what's the harm?"

"You haven't slept in forty-eight hours!" He lectured.

"Yes I have, Dom, you just woke me up." I retaliated.

"We're worried about you Matt, you keep doing this to yourself. It's going to have consequences later," Another familiar voice entered the conversation and I looked up with sleepy eyes to see Chris, looking exhausted.

"You shouldn't be the one telling me about consequences,  _Chris_."

It wasn't until a long while later that I had realized that Chris was affected by my comment, so it left an awkward silence in the room that I couldn't explain.

"Matt, are you  _on_ anything?" Dom asked worriedly. It was extremely out of character for me to say something like that, so naturally they were suspicious.

"Only my chair, friend."

"That's not very convincing." Dom grumbled sarcastically, "Get his guitar, Chris."

Chris obeyed and took my guitar out from under my arms. He examined them only to find marks from me sleeping on my guitar, but not anything that could say that I was shooting up.

"No marks, no needles." Chris sighed.

"There's rolling papers, though." Dom pointed out.

The drug bust happened around me while I sat quietly in my seat, staring off into space.

Fuck I was high.

I couldn't even remember what I took.

"Aha!" Dom exclaimed after a few minutes of searching, "Pain pills."

"Why would he have rolling papers, then?" Chris asked.

"Jus' in case." I mumbled. Chris rolled his eyes and took the papers from the desk. I started gazing off into space again.

"Matt." Dom snapped.

"Dommy." I snapped back.

"Don't call me Dommy."

"I always call you Dommy."

"Not now, Matt, I'm mad at you."

"But I just-"

"You just what, Matt? You're doing drugs again and I won't let you go back to that!"

"It wasn't a problem, Dommy."

Dom grimaced at the name and opened his mouth to yell at me.

He didn't, though.

"Matt, at eighteen you were smoking weed, shooting up, and crashing on the streets. It _was_ a problem." He whispered.

That quieted me down for a minute. The worst part of the conversation, though, is that I just didn't care. Apathy and ignorance didn't wash over me because it was there as soon as I woke up.

"So?" I asked, my high fading but still present, "Chris was a problem. Why don't you lecture  _him_?"

"Matt!" Dom snapped again.

"I'm just saying! I'm not the only one with a problem here, so I don't know why the hell you're singling me out!"

"I'm not the one relapsing, Matt, that's why we're singling you out!" Chris argued.

"How do we know, huh?" I barked.

"Because I'm not drunk!" Chris threw his hands in the air in exasperation but I kept going.

I slandered him and he retaliated back until he was almost crying. I still couldn't feel anything and at the time I couldn't have cared less.

"Enough!" Dom yelled, "Enough."

Chris and I stood there and he took the rolling papers out of his pocket. He chucked them at me, got up, and left.

"I don't care, take them, wreck yourself."

"Chris," Dom called after him, "Come on, Chris, he didn't mean it."

And I was alone in the studio.

 

\----

 

"So this all started when you were eighteen, correct?" The woman asked.

 


	2. Hysteria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months after Matt is busted for relapsing back into drugs, he isn't much better. Chris is still cross with Matt and Matt still doesn't care. Dom doesn't know what to do because he doesn't want to see Matt in the state he's in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: unhelpful therapy experiences, the results of those unhelpful therapy experiences, suuuuper awkward conversations with the therapist, drinking and being drunk

"So this all started when you were eighteen, correct?" The woman asked.

I was sitting in a bright, pristine room a couple stories off the ground. The woman across from me was the therapist that Dom forced me to see. She held a clipboard and made me uncomfortable.

"Y-yes."

Scribbles on the clipboard.

"What drugs were you doing then, Matthew?"

"Uh, I uh..." I stammered.

"Matthew, the only way I can help you is if you are completely honest with me."

"Um, okay, okay," I wrung my hands and continued, "Weed, uh.."

"Mr. Bellamy."

"I can't...can't remember," I lied, "I can't remember anything else."

"Oh, okay."

More scribbles on the clipboard.

She knew I was lying.

"So why did you start taking these drugs, Matthew?" She relaxed back in her chair and set the clipboard on the arm of her chair.

"When I was eighteen, I didn't have a lot to do, so I went to parties. I was easily impressionable so the inevitable happened and it spiraled out of control from there." That wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth.

When I was eighteen, I was kicked out of my home for coming out as bisexual. It took a great toll on my mental health and I turned to what everybody was turning to these days, easily accessible drugs. I met Dom and Chris a few years before that happened, so I was lucky that they noticed when they did. Now it was pain pills and weed again. 

This new album we were working on was one of the only ways that the stress would subside so when that stopped working, I turned to what I remembered felt the best for me. 

The woman asked more questions about my childhood and what turned me to drugs, but I wasn't answering. After what seemed like an eternity, noon came and I was free to go. The first place I thought to go to was Dom's house, but a pub that I came across along the way distracted me.

 _"I swear to God, Matthew Bellamy..."_ I heard Dom's voice in the back of my head, saying the words he said to me just before they all realized again. 

What's the harm in one drink?

 

\---

 

"I'm putting you under house arrest, you drunk bastard."

"'Rest? Y' can't do that, Dommy."

"You're coming inside and I'm gonna lock you in my basement."

"Nuh-uh, I'm gonna beat yer ass if y' try."

He practically dragged me through the front door and dropped me on his couch. I tried getting up to go after him, but I was confronted with a sudden dizziness and pounding headache.

"No, don't follow me. Sit your ass down and try not to puke on anything." He turned around and pushed me back on the couch and I tried to focus on any horizon I could find.

Dom came back with water and a phone to his ear.

"Who ya talkin' to, Dommy?" I slurred. He glared at me and continued talking to this anonymous person. After he finished talking, he hung up and started talking to me again.

"I called Chris. He's coming over to help." Shit. I hadn't talked to him since when this all started six months ago and I sure as hell didn't want our first confrontation to be with me in the lower position.

"No, no, I'm fine. I don't need Chris." I mumbled.

"Yes, you do. It's three in the afternoon and you're drunken to hell knows where."

"I only had five drinks."

"Yeah but you're a lightweight, Matt. You can't take much alcohol, remember?"

A blank stare from me.

"No, right, you can't remember. You're dru-"

Everything started blurring and my vision was going black. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I passed out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes matt is wastedddddd


	3. Sunburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom freaked out.
> 
> Chris is frantic, knowing what could happen.
> 
> Matt is still unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panicked logic, alcohol, alcoholism, cursing :o, jealousy

**Dom's POV**

"Fuck, Matt, wake up." I panicked when I realized that his moaning and groaning had stopped while I was talking. 

 _Okay, okay,_ I thought,  _I just need to turn him on his side, right? He'll be fine._ I grunted as I lifted him to turn him on his side, and once that was done I called Chris again.

Ring one.

Ring two.

Ring three.

"Dom?"

"Chris holy fuck."

"What happened now?"

"He passed out while I was talking."

"How many drinks did this guy have, Dom?" Chris sounded genuinely scared on the other end of the line which made me even more panicked. He of all people would know how alcohol works negatively.

"He said that he had five but I don't know if he's lying or not and I'm just-" I was interrupted by Matt coughing aggressively. He stirred briefly before going under again.

"Dom? Dom are you there?" Chris called worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm here. He's still alive, he just woke up for a second."

"Okay listen, I'm gonna book it over there and he better not be dead in ten minutes."

"Yeah, okay." I huffed. Chris hung up and I crouched down so that Matt and I were face to face. This was probably a bad idea, considering that he was drunk and anything could spew out of him at any moment. Luckily, that didn't happen.

Chris arrived a few minutes later than he had intended, but he bolted into my home with a great fear and panic.

"Is he still breathing?" He rushed, his words mashing together. He grabbed my shoulders and we stared into each other's terrified eyes.

"Yes, yes, he's alive." I whispered.

"Okay what did you guys do with me when I would get bad?"

"We put you in the bathtub."

"Then let's get 'em in the bathtub." He hoisted Matt into his arms and I felt jealousy. This feeling never usually came about before, especially towards one of my band mates.

It was unusual and I didn't appreciate it one bit.

I followed Chris like a lost puppy up the stairs and into my bathroom. He placed Matt in the bathtub and made sure that he was in a position so that he wouldn't choke. I wanted to be the one to make him safer.

I wanted to be the one who helped Matt the most.

But this feeling had never shown itself in this way before. Sure, it could've just been the closeness of Matt and I platonically felling pissed off at how Chris just  _sauntered in here_ and thought he knew everything. I was wrong, though. He had more firsthand and secondhand experience with being blackout drunk than Matt and I combined.

 

**Matt's POV**

I woke up in a bathtub, coughing up hell knows what.

Dom and Chris were nowhere to be seen, and I started panicking.

"D-Dom?" More coughing, "Where am I? Chris?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short ack

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn't good just bear with me.


End file.
